Page 109 of Kneeling to Candy

“If we cut the power to the elevators, those left in the basement will have no choice but to come up the staircase,” Gauge says. “Simple enough if we know where to cut the breakers.”

“I can help with that. The main level,” Chase speaks, pulling up the first level blueprints on the monitors, “has an industrial-sized kitchen, probably to serve all the buyers, and a few bathrooms. The rest of the main level comprises what I presume is the tech department and/or security center based on the ventilation system and electrical used in the building. If you look to the far left wall on the blueprints, you can see a rectangular symbol with diagonal lines—that’s your power panel housing all the electricity for the estate. Get to that, and you can cut power anywhere on site.”

“What’s on the top level of the estate?” Punk asks.

“The auction stage,” Candy answers rigidly. “As well as the pen.”

“The pen?” I repeat, stupefied.

“It’s a grotesque term the auctioneers used to describe the holding area where they place the sold people until their new owners can collect them after the auction,” Candy explains, her nose scrunched up in disgust.

Ziggy sneers. “Christ on a cracker. These women are nothing but property to them.”

“Explains the empty area off to the side of the stage. I wondered if it was an observation deck for bidders to get a closer look at the women. But a holding area makes sense,” Chase muses aloud.

“Not to mention most bidders will want to remain hidden for anonymity. Getting closer to the stage would force them to expose themselves—not something most perverts would risk doing,” I add.

Chase pulls up the upper level blueprints on the wall monitors for all of us to see. “The switchback grand staircase leads to the second floor. A smaller back staircase connects the main level to the second level—probably an emergency exit to meet fire codes. There’s also one separate elevator leading from the main level to the second level. The second floor is laid out in a circular formation, with the stage in the center and the private box seating surrounding the stage. The two elevators from the basement level bypass the first level, coming straight to the upper level on either side of the stage. The only entrances and exits are through the front door and the back door—this was probably strategic to eliminate the chances of captives escaping.”

“Great work, Chase,” Atlas says admirably. “It’ll help us plan where we need our team placed.”

Piero side-eyes Chase. “How did you get access to these blueprints? These are copyrighted materials not accessible to the public.”

Chase smirks. “They’re not copyright-protected if the city or county of the property has them on file as part of a public transaction.”

Piero leans back in his chair, mouthing the word wow. “What fool wouldn’t check county laws when building an auction house?”

“A dumb one,” Ziggy chimes in on my other side.

“Dumb but connected,” Chase adds. “These blueprints were filed with the county, but they were misplaced, buried in their intranet system. It appears someone was covering his mistake.”

“It adds validity to Piero’s earlier suspicion.” I look at the team around the table. “Duffy is the frontman, not the boss.”

The team falls silent, letting that unsettling news sink in. None of us likes the idea of not knowing who’s who in this trafficking operation.

The question is, who’s the puppeteer pulling the strings?

Atlas grunts, breaking the silence. “Any idea who messed with the files, Chase?”

“Has to be someone connected to the county with access to document control, most likely someone within the registrar’s office.”

“Or someone who has leverage over those who work in the registrar’s office.” I turn to look at Atlas. “Didn’t you say Detective Quire at Fort Collins Police Department was told by the chief of police to stop looking for the missing women from CSU?”

“I did, but I’m not seeing the connection between Fort Collins Police Chief Owen Dunne and the Aspen Registrar’s Office.”

“What if all the cities being targeted are connected? What if those in positions of power are in on this sex trafficking ring? It wouldn’t be the first time officers of the law and corrupt politicians were linked to shady dealings,” I explain. “Who has better influence over another person than someone in law enforcement? This sex ring could extend beyond Colorado.”

Candy clears her throat, folding her hands on the table in front of her and her gaze downcast. “I think Butch is on to something. During my time at the brothel, I was forced to service a few officers and government officials. I think one of them may have been a senator, but I don’t know where from. I’m sure if you look into who works in the registrar’s office, there’ll be at least one worker with a record, something local law enforcement or a superior could hold over the head of the employee.”

Atlas turns to Chase. “Do your magic.”

Chase pounds away on his keyboard. A tense few minutes later, he looks over his laptop at Atlas. “Mister Chuck Davis from the Aspen Registrar’s Office has more than a few DUIs in the system but still has his license.”

“Welp.” Tank clucks his tongue. “That solves that mystery.”

Atlas doesn’t look pleased at all by this information. He rubs at his chin, glaring at the table. “This complicates things,” he mutters. “We have twenty captives, possibly twenty buyers—some who may be law enforcement, like Owen Dunne. Not to mention their security details and all those hosting and working the auction. We need more manpower to help with the arrest. If we can’t trust local law enforcement for backup, who are we going to use?”

“The feds?” Ziggy suggests.

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